


Chapstick for the Moderately Integrated Soul

by CaptnSlash



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A Part of Allison lives in Stiles, Dead Allison Argent, Integrating Two Personalities Into One, M/M, McCall Pack, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, They're all friends, Two Souls In One Body, chapstick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 00:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14630606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptnSlash/pseuds/CaptnSlash
Summary: A part of Allison's soul is transferred into Stiles' body before she dies. Six months after the nogitsune is destroyed, Allison's personality resurfaces and her first action is to kiss Isaac. Stiles and Allison's personalities fight for control and Scott and Isaac ask Deaton for help, but it may just make things worse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this idea came from. It hit me out of the blue and I just knew I had to write it. I had some difficulty trying to find the right tags, so please leave suggestions in the comments if you think I've missed any important ones. This hasn't been beta'd by anyone and all mistakes are my own. Please be kind.
> 
> Note: I changed the name because "Psyches and Chapstick' wasn't working for me. It's a play on "Chicken Soup for the Soul." Sorry for any confusion.

Isaac pulls away from him. The werewolf has a scowl on his face that immediately eases when he sees the look in Stiles’ eyes. “Did you just kiss me?”

Stiles nods slowly. It was like being swept up in a tidal wave. There was no other option but to go with the flow and pray that you would be lucky enough to survive the experience. “Yeah. I just did that.”

“Why?” Isaac asks.

It’s the easiest question Stiles has ever been asked. “Because I love you, _loup._ ”

Isaac’s eyes widen and there’s an audible gasp that escapes from his mouth. “That’s what Allison used to call me.”

Stiles senses something inside himself shift, like a weight on his mind has been eased if only slightly. His awareness comes rushing back and the realization of what he’s done settles in. 

Isaac is suddenly fuming and his hands are gripping Stiles’ shoulders like they’re in a vice. He can feel the beta’s claws puncture the outer layers of his shirt and embed themselves in the skin underneath. Stiles winces from the contact now that blood has been drawn. Yellow eyes are boring into him light flashlights seeking out the darkest parts of his soul. “You think this is a joke? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Isaac…?” The werewolf’s name leaves Stiles’ mouth in a whisper as something inside of his mind fractures. The pressure on his shoulders is gone and Stiles feels as Isaac’s arms cradle him to keep him from falling to the hardwood floor. His eyes are rolling into the back of his head and his entire body has gone numb. 

“Scott!” He hears Isaac yell, though it’s very faint. “Stiles is having a seizure!”  


  


* * *

  


  
Stiles comes to on the sofa in Deaton’s office. He’s thankful because it’s much more comfortable than the metal exam tables that the veterinarian uses for more appropriate patients. He can hear voices from outside the room and he gets to his feet and manages to open the door and step through to the lobby.

Stiles is suddenly self-conscious as all conversation screeches to a halt. Deaton looks up at him from a rolling chair and Scott and Isaac are both standing close to him. “Did I fall asleep?” Stiles asks.

“For a little while,” Deaton responds.

He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a grunt instead of an intended sigh. “I had the strangest dream. I was riding on a horse and I was so scared that I was going to fall off, but I never did.”

Deaton stands and his eyes settle on Stiles. “Do you remember what happened before you lost consciousness?”

Stiles finds that his memory is a little fuzzy. He remembers that Isaac was there, but everything else is all jumbled up. “I think I was talking to Issac. I remember that we were both in Scott’s room, but I can’t remember why. Did something happen?”

“You had a seizure,” Scott reveals.

Stiles knows that seizures are a sign of neurological trauma. He's certain that he would remember going through something serious enough to cause him to have a seizure, so the reasons for why it happened are a complete mystery. “Maybe all those concussions have finally caught up to me? No offense, but why didn’t you take me to the hospital instead of the animal clinic? I probably need another MRI scan and I’m pretty sure Deaton isn’t hiding one of those puppies in the supply room.”

“He seems like he’s back to his usual annoying self,” Isaac notes.

Stiles turns to look at him. “First off, screw you. Second, what does that mean? Was I acting strange?”

Isaac starts to explain, but Scott stops him by placing a hand on his shoulder. That simple touch speaks volumes from alpha to beta and Isaac’s mouth snaps closed. 

Deaton seems to sense a little tension in the room and he's quick to think of a solution. “That’s not important right now. Stiles, I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes. Would it be okay if Isaac and Scott left us alone for a little bit?”

Stiles takes a moment to glance at both of them. It isn't a secret that he doesn’t completely trust the emissary, but he knows the guy would never do anything to intentionally put his life in danger. He eventually nods and watches silently as Scott and Isaac headed for the door. “We’ll be back in half an hour,” Scott promises.

After they're gone, Deaton motions to one of the rolling chairs and Stiles takes a seat. He's still feeling a little fatigued and his mind feels sluggish whenever he tries to think. Deaton takes a seat in a chair across from him so that they’re looking at each other. “So, how have things been going for you lately?”

Stiles’ fear starts to rise. He's now certain that the mind fog coupled with the way Isaac was staring at him is a sign that something bad is happening. His thoughts keep circling back to the fact that this has happened to him before before. “It’s back?” Stiles asks. 

Deaton frowns as he struggles to follow along. It takes a solid minute before he begins to catch on and is able to respond. “Are you referring to the nogitsune? No, Stiles, I don’t believe he’s possessing you again.”

“Then why do I have holes in my memory? Did I do something to Isaac? Did I black out and try to kill him? I mean, it was probably justified…” He can clearly see the eye roll that Isaac would have performed, likely for Scott’s sympathy, in response to his statement. He takes a little pleasure in the fact that the werewolf isn't there to defend himself.

Deaton is quick to assuage Stiles' fears. “Something did happen, but you didn’t try to hurt anyone. Your confusion is probably just a symptom of the seizure.”

“So why am I not in a hospital right now? What’s really going on?”

The emissary reaches into his pocket and he removes a bronze coin. “This is a coin that has been passed down by the male members of my family. It’s thought that it attracts good luck, but the fact of the matter is that it's just a coin. It has no monetary value and no real purpose for existing, yet it means a great deal to me.  Why do you suppose that is?”

Stiles takes a moment to really think about the question. He doesn't understand the importance of a damn coin or why it's more important than the fact that he's probably on the verge of losing his mind, but he decides to humor the guy. If nothing else, the distraction is preventing him from spiraling into a panic attack within the next few minutes. 

“It’s a tether to the past generations of your family," Stiles offers. "It connects you to them and helps you to remember to keep them in your thoughts. It's a symbol of your familial bond.”

“That’s right.”

Stiles' patience is starting to run out. He wants to know if he needs to get ready to off himself to keep from murdering half the town. He doesn't give a damn about a useless coin or what it symbolizes. “A lot of people have things like that. What’s your point?”

“Well, a lot of things can be passed down from parents to their children. Some people leave money. Others pass on sentimental objects like this coin. Some werewolves actually transfer important memories to keep past generations alive.”

Stiles stares ahead with a frown on his face. He can still remember his second grade teacher warning him that his face would get stuck like that if he kept it up for too long, but he's had plenty of time over the years to prove her wrong. “Deaton, if you haven't noticed, I’m kind of freaking out here. You need to get to the point and tell me what in the hell is happening to me.”

The emissary stays calm and collected despite Stiles' increased emotional state. “Forgive me. I’ve been attempting to explain in the most delicate way possible.”

“Stop trying to placate me,” Stiles scolds. “Am I dying?”

“Not at all. Stiles, I believe that you maintained a connection to the nogitsune even after you were expelled from his body. Coincidentally, the oni were connected to him at the same time. It is my belief that a part of Allison's psyche was transferred and absorbed into you at the moment of her death.”

Stiles is unable to stop the laugh that comes pouring out. It sounds ridiculous. He actually finds it comforting to think that some part of Allison is still living on after what happened to her, but the idea that a piece of her consciousness is inside of him seems too hard to believe. It sounds too good to be true.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Stiles asks. He can see the calm exterior on the emissary’s face slip away and it's rapidly replaced by one of annoyance. 

The emissary shifts uncomfortably in his chair. He decides to be more straightforward since his usual tactics don't seem to be working. Deaton knows that Stiles is confused and he's a little taken aback that the boy with such a sharp mind seems to have been dulled by his recent experiences. 

“Let’s go about this a different way, hmm? I believe you had a seizure because your mind can’t handle two opposing personalities struggling for control.”

Stiles feels a chill run down his spine when he realizes that the emissary is completely serious. “You really believe this?"

“I'd like to try a technique to help these two parts of yourself work in tandem. It’s something that I learned to help new werewolves struggling with the dichotomy between their human and supernatural personas, but I think it will still be effective. Psychiatrists use a similar technique to help patients with dissociative identity disorder integrate their personalities. May I proceed?”

Stiles takes a few beats to think it over. He freely admits that he doesn't have much to lose, but Deaton isn't exactly known for fully warning them about the dangers of his druidic techniques and herbal remedies. He thinks that most people would want to know if they can look forward to things like full body paralysis, coma, or speaking in tongues. The man is calculated and the only way to deal with someone like that is to always imagine that there are numerous potentially positive and potentially negative outcomes. You just have to jump in and hope that you'll land on the right side. 

Stiles lets out a muted sigh before putting his life into the man's hands. “I guess I don't have anything better to do.”

“Excellent. Close your eyes and ball your hands into fists.”

Stiles follows the instructions. He feels like an idiot, but he's already agreed to give this a try and he's not going to back out without a valid reason. 

“Now, I want you to picture a light the size of a coin in each of your fists. One of them is red and that one represents Stiles. It's his hopes and dreams, fears, and all of his bad jokes. The other light is yellow and it's the part of Allison that lives inside of you. It contains all of her knowledge and experience, even some of her thoughts and feelings. Can you see them in your mind’s eye?”

The strange thing is that Stiles can. He knows it’s probably related to his spark and how he made the mountain ash extend with the power of his belief. “I can see them,” he reports. "They're so warm."

Deaton is watching Stiles carefully. He lets Stiles take a few moments to fully sense these aspects of himself. “Good. I’m sure that you know that red and yellow make orange when they’re combined. What I want you to do is visualize a string connecting the two lights. The lights are going to slowly bleed into the string and they'll mix together and become orange as they integrate."

Stiles is experiencing disbelief when it starts to happen. He’s on track with everything Deaton is telling him and he can see the cord connecting the two lights. That’s when the yellow light overtakes the red and snuffs it out. Only the yellow light remains. 

His eyes snap open and he jumps to his feet. “I need to go home,” he says.

Deaton stands and he places a hand to his chest to stop him. “You shouldn't leave so soon after the integration.”

Stiles knows what to do. He feels a surge of adrenaline and his palm is surging forward and colliding with Deaton’s larynx. The veterinarian’s hand leaves Stiles’ chest and reaches to his own throat as he recognizes that the technique failed to elicit the desired outcome. Stiles swings and his fist connects with the side of the veterinarian’s face. The man's head collides with the front desk and his unconscious body collapses to the floor.

Stiles reaches into the man’s pockets and easily locates the keys to the man's car. He sprints outside of the clinic and approaches the sedan. The alarm chirps off after he presses the button on the key fob and he enters the vehicle. The key slides into the ignition without any resistance and the motor turns over on the first try. Soft jazz music fills the interior through the speakers and Stiles puts the car into reverse and pulls out onto the main road. He has an overwhelming urge to get back to the safety of his home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles escapes to the Argent household and he protects himself from a couple of invading werewolves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter. I borrowed a couple of lines from the show to give Stiles' words a little more impact.

Stiles pulls up to the house and he exits the vehicle. There are birds chirping in nearby trees and a neighbor a few houses down is mowing the lawn. The air is filled with the scent of freshly cut grass and the distinct smell of honeysuckle. The car is off and the keys have been left in the ignition with the door wide open. He can hear the vehicle beeping at him as a warning, but the sound doesn't register as he approaches the front porch.

The house is different than he remembers and it takes him a few seconds to realize that the home he’s arrived at isn’t the home that he shares with his father. Even though he knows he doesn’t live here, the house still feels comforting and he thinks that it’s been a very long time since he’s been inside. He wants to go to his bedroom and he knows that thought is stupid because his bedroom is in his other house, but his hand wraps around the sleeve of his hoodie and he’s breaking one of the panes of glass before he can stop himself.

His hand reaches into the opening with ease since the glass is out of the way and he turns the deadbolt lock without any trouble. He achieves entry and notices the stack of boxes in the living room. It’s a disconcerting sight and he immediately climbs the stairs to his bedroom. He pauses at the closed doorway and his shaky hand raises to the doorknob. His fingers wrap around the acrylic handle and he pushes the door open as flashes of memory temporarily obscure his vision.

More boxes are clustered on one side of the room. There's a lingering scent of lilac and jasmine and another memory resurfaces, but it's gone before he can grab onto it. Echoes of laughter fill his ears and he can Lydia say his name except he realizes half a second too late that the name he's heard isn't actually his. Part of his mind recognizes that the space he’s in belonged to Allison. He knows that the boxes make sense and that the bare walls are because her father couldn’t stand to see the room go unused after her death, but another part of himself feels possessive of the room and everything in it. It feels like a safe haven, a place of solace, and someone has desecrated it. 

He pauses long enough to look out the window once he hears a car pull into the driveway. The reality of what’s about to happen hits him. He opens the door to the closet and approaches the back wall. His worn-down fingernails dig into the wood panelling and he rips it off easily since it was secured by a series of magnets to allow for quick access during an emergency. He smiles when he feels the cold metal of the Chinese ring daggers against the palms of his hands. He’s ready for a fight.

Instinct suddenly kicks in and he runs out of the bedroom and down the hall into his father’s office. He glares at another stack of boxes and then takes position behind one of the bookshelves against the wall, his hiding spot just out of view of anyone foolish enough to enter the room. He slows his breathing just as his father taught him and he focuses on biofeedback techniques to calm his heart. He hears someone calling a strange name and listens as the voices get closer.

Shadows shift as someone walks into the room. Their feet are as heavy as their breathing. He emerges from his hiding place using a wide step that helps to conceal his position. He kicks at the back of the intruder's knees and the werewolf in front of him falls to the floor. One of the daggers in his hands slices the achilles tendons and the heel of his shoe delivers a firm kick to the back of the shifter’s head. The enemy has been rendered unconscious in less than ten seconds.

His father would be proud. 

“Stiles?”

He pauses for a minute because the word is almost familiar. He realizes it's someone’s name, maybe a friend’s or a relative’s, at the same moment he turns and locks eyes with a second werewolf. He pushes down his fear and advances in a sprint. His knee connects with Isaac’s abdomen and he shoves the two daggers into the guy’s shoulders before he delivers a second knee to the chin once he's doubled over in pain. 

Stiles remembers that the guy’s name is Isaac and there’s something familiar about him as well. He’s forced to push it out of mind because his survival is more important than anything else right now. The werewolf collapses and groans from the pain he’s in while Stiles escapes down the stairs, the daggers still in his possession. He skids to a stop when he sees a man enter the house with a gun drawn.

There’s a moment of recognition between them before the newcomer lowers his weapon and returns it back to his holster. “Stiles?”

Stiles' body stiffens. “Dad?” There’s a brief moment of dissonance as he recognizes the guy as his father while he simultaneously acknowledges that his father is actually in a different house with a very different bedroom. In an instant, that thought vanishes.

“Excuse me?” Chris Argent asks. He looks at Stiles and then his eyes dart to the two werewolves that begin to descend the stairs. Their injuries are already healed and their approaching footsteps trigger Stiles back into fight or flight mode. 

Stiles grabs his father’s wrist and leads him out of the house. “We’ve got to get out of here now!”

Chris spends a brief moment watching Stiles as he’s being led back to his car. He pivots to see Isaac and Scott right behind them. Chris pulls his arm away and he looks to Scott for an explanation. “Scott, what in the hell is going on?”

Scott steps forward to explain and he’s immediately confronted by Stiles kicking him in the solar plexus before rapidly following it up with a right hook to the jaw. The werewolf staggers off to the side and Isaac is frozen because he’s not sure what to do. Stiles smirks at Isaac and he throws the dagger he’s been holding in his right hand. It enters the beta’s shoulder and Stiles delivers a roundhouse kick to his face. 

“Something’s wrong with him, Chris. He thinks he’s Allison,” Scott croaks out. He’s still in a fair amount of pain. Isaac drops to his knees as blood pours out of his shoulder for the second time and begins pooling around him on the sidewalk. Stiles raises the dagger in his right hand and he prepares to execute the killing blow. His arm lowers and is a few inches away from striking its target when Chris’ hand latches onto his wrist and holds him back.

“That’s enough,” Chris orders. “We have a code.”

Stiles pauses for a moment and he looks into his father’s eyes. “ _Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes_ ,” he recites. He feels the meaning of the words and he lets the remaining dagger fall from his hands. He looks down at the werewolf that he almost killed and he's surprised when he recognizes him.

“Someone explain this to me. Why does he think he’s my daughter?” Chris looks heartbroken to even be reminded of her like this and Stiles pulls his hand away and glares at the man. In the next breath, Stiles rushes to Isaac’s side and he kneels down in front of him. His hands reach for the werewolf’s neck and he lifts his chin so that he can see the beta’s eyes.

“What happened to you? Who did this, Isaac? I swear, I’ll kill them for hurting you.”

Isaac reaches up and he removes the dagger from his shoulder. Stiles’ hands raise to the wound and he begins to apply pressure. Isaac winces from the contact and he gently pushes the human’s hands away so that his body can feel the pain and use it to heal sooner rather than later. 

Scott decides to take advantage of the fact that Stiles is relatively calm to give Chris Argent the rundown of how they’ve reached this strange moment in time. The werewolf begins by explaining Stiles' seizure and Deaton's theory as to what caused it. He omits the kiss in order to spare Isaac any embarassment. “Stiles attacked Deaton when he tried to use a technique to help. Something went wrong and he knocked the my boss out before stealing his car and fleeing here. Isaac and I followed once Deaton woke up and called us. Stiles broke into your house and he completely ambushed us.”

Stiles ignores Scott’s words as his eyes notice the dampness caused by the red liquid on his hands. The hands begin to shake slightly and he scrambles backward to get away from Isaac. His breath is ragged and he begins to have flashbacks of all the horrible things the nogitsune made him do, the people it made him kill. He’ll never be able to forget. “It was all my fault,” he confesses. "I wasn't strong enough to shut the door." 

Isaac, Scott, and Chris watch in silence as Stiles struggles with his sanity. They aren’t expecting for Stiles to reach down and pick up one of the ring daggers. “I’ve got to end the game before I hurt someone else. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t,” Isaac pleads. Stiles prepares to drive the dagger in and eviscerate himself, but he’s stopped by Isaac’s hand on his. The touch is tentative at first, but it strengthens the longer he looks into Stiles' eyes. “Don’t do this, Stiles. We’ll find another way.”

“There's no other way.”

“Let me help you, Stiles.”

His fearful expression converts to one of relief as he misinterprets Isaac’s meaning. “Snap my neck, I guess. It'll be quick that way,” Stiles says. 

Isaac has had enough. He pulls the dagger out of Stiles’ hands and he throws it behind him without any care as to where it will land. “I’m not going to help you die, idiot. I’m going to help you get better.”

Stiles jumps to his feet and he pulls away from Isaac as if his touch is burning him. He tries to wipe away the blood on his hands with his shirt and it’s only partially effective. “ _I'm terrified. I'm always terrified. I act like I know what I'm doing, but I don't. I don't know if Isaac is dying right now. I don't know—_ “

Isaac takes a step forward and he's pulling Stiles into a hug. He's relieved when the human doesn't resist. “I’m okay now. We’re both okay.”

Stiles feels safe for the first time in the six months since the nogitsune has been destroyed. The arms wrapped around him are warm and comforting and he can smell Isaac’s aftershave. The fog in his mind clears and he blinks a couple of times before he realizes that Isaac is actually hugging him. He is immediately freaked out by the thought and he squirms out of the werewolf’s grip before pushing the guy away.

“Dude. Why the hell are you hugging me? I don’t even let Scott hug me like that and we’ve been friends for most of our lives.”

Isaac looks over him and he seems to be searching his eyes for something before he says anything. “Stiles?”

“No, it’s the eighth wonder of the world. Of course it’s me! Have you been hit in the head with a heavy object? If not, would you like to be?”

Isaac’s hands lower to his sides and it’s only then that Stiles sees the bloodstains on his shirt. “Shit. What happened to you?”

“You kicked our asses,” Scott reports.

Stiles spins and his eyes look over Scott and Chris Argent. He can picture maybe being successful in maiming a werewolf for a few seconds if they were blinded and taken by complete surprise, but not two healthy werewolves. It doesn't compute. 

He sure as hell knows that he couldn't take down Papa Argent on his own. Stiles points at the hunter with a raised eyebrow man shakes his head. “No, not a chance.”

“I figured,” Stiles admits. “How did I beat up on two werewolves?”

“It’s a long story,” Scott says. “We’ll tell you all about it once we get to the clinic. Isaac, can you drive Deaton’s car back?”

Isaac shrugs as if the menial task is beneath him, but he knows better than to outright refuse a request from Scott. “Sure. No problem.”

“I’ll meet you there after I lock up the house,” Chris says. He disappears into his home and Scott walks back toward his mother’s car. He pauses and looks back at Stiles. The guy hasn’t moved yet and he's mesmerized by something. His eyes are locked onto Isaac.

“Dude, are you coming?” Scott asks.

Stiles looks back at him before shaking his head. “I’m gonna ride with Isaac. See you there.”

Scott is gobsmacked that his best friend would choose to willingly ride with the guy after just freaking out over a little bit of platonic touching. They can barely stand to be in the same room with each other let alone the confines of a mid-sized car. He looks to Isaac to make sure the beta is okay with that and the werewolf seems to agree to let Stiles tag along. 

Scott is quick to let both of them know he won’t be far, not that there’s any reason they need to know. “I’ll follow you there in case anything goes wrong.”

Stiles scoffs as he approaches Deaton’s vehicle. “It’s a ten minute drive. What could go wrong?”

“You’d be surprised,” Isaac answers. He gets in behind the steering wheel and starts the vehicle. Stiles enters on the passenger side and he secures his seatbelt before straining to reach the door to close it. They pull out of the horseshoe driveway and Stiles promptly changes the station of the radio to something more age appropriate for the vehicle’s current occupants.

Isaac turns and he catches Stiles staring at him. He lets it go the first few times; he feels the need to say something by the fourth occurrence. “What?”

“I have this strange feeling that I should apologize. Did I really stab you?”

Isaac nods and he taps the steering wheel with his thumb a couple of times.

The human knows that there is something else that he’s forgetting. It’s like having a word on the tip of his tongue that he’s been trying to remember for the last hour. He’s on the verge of accepting defeat when the memories of Deaton’s exercise at the animal clinic return. That memory is quickly followed by all of the ones before and all of the ones after. “I kissed you?!” His hand flies to cover his mouth as soon as he’s said it.

“Yeah, you did.” Isaac is a little bit smug about that fact and Stiles resists the urge to smack him considering the amount of damage he’s already dealt to the guy. 

Stiles feels like an ass. It's completely out of his character to just put his lips on somebody without getting their permission first. He's big on consent. “I’m really sorry. I never would have done that. I mean, I would have asked before forcing it on you like that. I didn't mean that I would never kiss you because you're obviously an attractive guy.”

Isaac decides to let the compliment pass. That takes Stiles by surprise and the silence is enough to make him worry and his brain tells him that any noise is better than no noise at all. Naturally, he starts saying the first things that come to mind without any care for the consequences. “You have soft lips for a guy. I’m sure you would have been better at it if I’d given you some warning or if, you know, you were into it in the first place. Now I feel like a lowlife. I committed misdemeanor sexual battery and I actually deserve to go to jail for this.”

“Stiles—.”

“Isaac, I am so sorry.”

The werewolf feels a sudden need to protect Stiles from himself. “You weren’t thinking clearly. For what it’s worth, it wasn’t the worst kiss I ever had.”

Stiles looks back at him. "Okay, but how many people have you actually kissed?"

"A handful." Isaac knows that Stiles knows that's a lie, so he opts to correct himself. "A few. Allison and a pair of twins that lived around the corner from my house. We had practice kissing sessions in the sixth grade."

Stiles groans. "Practice kissing doesn't count, Isaac. Everybody knows that. So that means that Allison was your first real kiss and I know she wasn't a bad kisser."

"How do you know that?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "I don't know from personal experience. I only had to listen to Scott talk about her technique for three months straight. This means that I was the worst kiss you ever had. Now I really feel shitty."

Isaac bites back a laugh even though he's unable to hide the smile on his face. "How would that even work? You thought you were Allison when you were kissing me, right?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Well, if I was kissing Allison then I wasn't kissing you."

Stiles thinks about it for a second before dismissing Isaac's attempts to make him feel better about himself. "Nice try, but they were still my lips. I thought I was Allison, but I was still the one in control of my body. I just have to admit the truth.”

Isaac knows he's going to regret the words that are on the verge of coming out of his mouth, but he can't keep himself from choking them down. "Then I'll give you a redo once all this stuff figured out."

"What? Why would you do that?"

"Because you'll be doubting your skills every time you try to kiss someone for the rest of your life. I can't have that kind of responsibility on my shoulders. I'll make your life a living hell if you tell anyone about this conversation."

Stiles smiles at him after a moment. "I don't have to tell Scott. He already knows."

"What?"

Stiles laughs at the look of horror on Isaac's face. "He's a werewolf and he’s in the car right behind us. He's heard everything we've said."

"I doubt that."

"Scott, honk your horn." Stiles' voice is the same volume that it's been ever since he got into the car. Isaac sinks into the seat when the car behind them hits the horn for a few seconds. "Told you," Stiles adds.

Isaac feels immense relief when they arrive at the clinic and he parks the car. He avoids Scott as they walk into the clinic. He hands the car keys to Deaton and the emissary removes the icepack that he's holding on the side of his face.

Stiles feels almost as bad in this moment as he did when he talked Scott into sneaking into the hospital morgue with him and they got caught looking at a dead body. "I'm sorry I lost control during your questionable personality reintegration technique and beat the living daylights out of you before rifling through your pockets and stealing your car. No hard feelings?"

"We'll talk about how you can make it up to me later. I imagine it will involve long nights and lots of sweating."

Stiles turns to Isaac. “I can never quite tell if he's flirting with me or just trying to scar me for life."

Isaac has to turn away from all of them. Unfortunately, it does nothing to hide his laughter. Scott grabs the beta's shoulder and begins walking him toward the door. "We're just gonna be outside waiting for Argent to show up. Yell if you need us."

Stiles walks back to the chair was previously sitting in before Allison's personality took control. Deaton sits back in the chair he was sitting in and he places the ice pack on the nearby counter. "Shall we try this again?"

Stiles nods. He knows that he's used up his one excuse to act poorly because of this predicament he's found himself in and he doesn't want to have a repeat occurrence. "We might as well give it a try. What's going to happen if this actually works?"

"I don't quite know what you mean."

Stiles attempts to rephrase his question. "Well, am I going to suddenly crave her favorite foods? Am I going to have the urge to take up archery and call Chris 'dad' whenever I see him?"

The emissary shakes his head sternly. "Not at all. Integrating her residual personality into yours will help you access her skills and memories, but they wont' be prominent enough to override your own personality. So, you may know how to shoot a crossbow with near perfect accuracy if you pick one up, but you aren't going to be inundated with urges to go out and buy one."

Stiles breathes in and out a few times as he gets to the point of what he needs to know. "I kissed Isaac at my house before I had the seizure. Is that going to be something I'm going to want to do whenever I see him?"

"I seriously doubt that.”

Stiles is taken by surprise at Deaton’s tone. “What do you have against Isaac?”

“I—I have nothing against him. I just meant that you won’t have those urges unless you, Stiles Stilinski, has those urges.”

Now he feels like even more of a jerk for thinking he was picking on Isaac. His new plan is to get home as soon as possible. ”Okay. Let's just figure out how to do this so I don't lose my mind or accidentally hurt someone else."

Stiles is left alone when Deaton gets up and walks into his office. There's the distinctive sound of drawers opening and closing and Stiles knows that he's searching for something in one of the large apothecary chests and the numerous little cubicles that it holds. Deaton returns to his seat and he passes Stiles a tumbled piece of obsidian. 

"Are you planning on using this to heal my aura?"

Deaton stares at him with an intensity that tells Stiles that he has a headache and that he isn't in the mood to play games. "Don't make jokes. Obsidian is known for its grounding properties. You're going to use it to anchor yourself while you integrate Allison's personality into your own. It should be enough to keep her from taking over since you're the dominant personality."

Stiles bites back the urge to ask if he needs to say an incantation over the magic rock to get it to work. He settles on a more diplomatic way of getting the necessary information. "I just hold it and it does its thing?"

"Well, you have to concentrate on it. Your focus will help you actualize its power. Start by slowing your breathing and tell me when you're ready to move on."

The stone is placed securely in his left palm. He balls his hands into fists and he concentrates on inhaling and exhaling every eight seconds. It isn't long before he's found a comfortable rhythm and he can stop the counting. He's too relaxed to speak and he decides that a slight nod of his head is the best option since his focus is now on the stone in his hand. 

Deaton has been watching him intently and he was just waiting for the sign to progress to the next step. ”Very good. I want you to visualize a red light in your left hand. This is your body's dominant personality and it represents every aspect of who Stiles is. Next, visualize a yellow light in your right hand. This light represents the passive personality of Allison Argent. Once you see both of them clearly then you can also visualize a white string connecting these two lights together."

Stiles can see the lights in perfect clarity in his mind's eye just like before. He pushes away his fears and doubts as soon as they start to bubble to the surface. "I see them," he reports.

"Excellent. We're going to do things a little differently this time. The yellow light that represents Allison is going to slowly bleed from your right fist. It will move into the white string connecting the two lights and move down the line until it slowly merges into the red light in your left fist. The colors will bleed together and the red light is going to become orange as Allison’s personality becomes integrated. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Stiles feels a warmth move throughout his body as soon as the colors begin mixing. He can sense some of his anxiety subside as the stone in his hands weighs him down just enough to keep him from losing himself. The yellow light seeps into the red until there is nothing left but orange light. Stiles exhales his current breath and he opens his eyes. He looks down at the obsidian and then looks back up.

"I think it worked. I actually feel pretty calm."

The emissary is still cautious, but the fact that Stiles is at ease is a good sign. "Good. Now, I think you should go home and get a few hours of sleep. You look like you're about to pass out."

The fatigue is strong even though he's still relaxed. He knows he'll be able to fall asleep without any problems and he hands the stone back to Deaton before standing up and stretching. A yawn momentarily distracts him before he can repeat his apology and thank Deaton for his help. The emissary is courteous and understanding before he puts the ice pack back against the side of his head and retreats to his office.

Stiles exits the clinic and he pauses outside of the door when the sunlight hits him and warms him up. There are very few clouds in the sky and no shade to hide in. He walks toward the corner of the clinic. Chris Argent and the two werewolves are all watching him move closer and Stiles can see that they're scenting his emotions and watching his body language for any signs of a threat.

"Deaton said it worked. I've got to go home and crash."

Chris looks between Scott and Isaac before he steps toward Stiles. "So what exactly does this mean? You know everything she knew?"

His first instinct is to shrug his shoulders and ask for time to figure it out. Instead, he decides to repeat what the emissary told him a few minutes earlier. "I was told that it's like having skills that I can call on if I need to. I won't have the urge to go out and buy a bow and arrow, but I'll know how to use one if I happen to pick one up. Little things like that."

Chris is rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand and thinking about what this revelation means for his daughter. Stiles hopes that the man can still grieve her loss even though this odd thing has happened. "It's not the same as her being here," Stiles says. "Scott, would you mind giving me a ride home?"

Scott walks toward his mother's car and opens the passenger door. Stiles waves goodbye to them and he pauses before getting in the car. "Give me a few days to let all of this sink in. I don't even know what this really means just yet."

Chris seems to accept that Stiles doesn't have the answers he's looking for. He tells them all goodbye before getting into his truck and driving off. Scott is already in the vehicle and Stiles' eyes are focused on Isaac. He knows he wants Isaac and he hates that he has to figure that out on top of this equally weird thing that's fallen into his lap. "Get in the car, Isaac. We’re not leaving you here all alone."

The beta doesn't say anything. He just gets into the back seat of the car and closes the door once he's inside. Stiles does the same and Scott pulls out onto the road and sets course for the Stilinski household. 

Stiles is thankful that he recognizes the house as home as soon as he sees it. The werewolves insist on following him inside and they watch him eat a pop tart and drink some water before they say their goodbyes and leave him to get some rest. He closes his eyes as soon as his head hits the pillow and he can feel the lull of sleep pulling him under.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone leaves a gift for Stiles in his locker. It's a game changer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. It's a short fic, but I ended up getting a little bit wordy in some places and that was enough to stretch it out into multiple chapters.

For once in his life, Stiles wakes before his alarm clock. He’s full of energy and ready to get the day started. He showers and picks out an outfit to help him survive a Monday in the clutches of the public education system. The stairs creak slightly as he walks to the kitchen and fills a bowl with an equal mixture of cereal and milk. He eats in silence until his father appears in the kitchen ten minutes later. 

“How are you feeling, son?”

“Great!” Stiles had to hand it to his father. The man continually rolled with punch after punch and the news that a fragment of Allison’s personality had become integrated with his own hardly even fazed him. In fact, John was impressed with the fact that his son was able to subdue Scott and Isaac.

Stiles tried to tell him that they weren’t actually trying to hurt him and that defending himself from an actual werewolf attack would be much more difficult, but it seemed to go in one ear and out the other. 

The sheriff hugs his son and grabs a bagel before heading out of the door, intent on believing that this latest curveball can actually help his son protect himself. 

Stiles adds water to his empty cereal bowl before he deposits it in the sink and collects his backpack and keys. The drive to school is filled with music by _All Time Low_ and a little _Mest_ for good measure. When he arrives, the parking lot is still empty enough for some of the prime spots to be available. He chooses one that he knows will be easy to get out of after school is over. The lot is always a madhouse when the students pile out in droves and attempt to leave campus at the same time. 

Stiles glances at the clock in the main hallway and he makes the decision to go to his locker and deposit most of his stuff before heading to meet up with everyone in the library. The lock snaps open after he enters the combination and he swings open the door. His eyes settle on the small white box sitting on one of the shelves and he reaches for it hesitantly as though it might turn into a person and actually kill him. Knowing his luck, it’s a statistical likelihood.

He shakes it gently and there is clearly something inside, but he doesn’t have enhanced hearing like most of his friends and he can’t use the sound as a clue to determine what’s hiding inside. He takes a quick look around to see if anyone is watching him and no one appears to be paying him any attention. He holds the box firmly in one hand and uses his other hand to remove the lid. He raises an eyebrow and that quickly dissolves into a smirk.

The box contains watermelon lip balm. The package is nondescript and there isn’t even a note. He scans the area one final time to see if the person that left it is hanging around and he fails to locate him a second time. Truth be told, he has no doubt who left it for him. He hesitates as he’s about to put it on when an even better idea comes to mind. 

He slides the lip balm into his front shirt pocket and unpacks the backpack to locate the necessities for his first period class. He heads to the library with his textbook, notebook, and a couple of sharpened pencils. The library is almost empty except for a few students that Stiles has never seen before. A random teacher walks in every few minutes to pick up a school newsletter before retreating to wherever it is that teachers go before classes begin.

He forgets all about the chapstick as people start filing in. Scott is flanked by Kira and Malia. Lydia comes in next and reminds everyone that she has it on good authority that they all have a participation quiz in the Creative Writing class that they all share. Stiles does his best to mask his reaction when Isaac walks in. He sits down in the empty chair between Scott and Lydia and the werewolf seems to be keeping his focus on the alpha among them.

Stiles does his best to control his breathing with the hope that his chemo-signals aren’t going to give anything away. He removes the lip balm from his pocket and makes a brief comment to Lydia and Malia before he undoes the cap. It separates from the tube with a hollow _pop_ and Isaac turns and stares. Stiles refuses to back down. He keeps his eyes on Isaac’s while he places it on his lips in slow streaks. He presses his lips together and moves them slightly to adequately spread the balm around in an even layer.

Even Stiles can smell the artificial watermelon aroma and he alone notices the way Isaac’s pupils dilate from the show he’s put on. “Isaac, do you still have time to help me talk to my first period teacher about that extra credit idea you had? I know it’s a long shot, but I could really use the extra help.”

Isaac pauses for a minute before his brain catches on. “Right. Yeah, we should probably do that now, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“See ya,” Isaac says indiscriminately to everyone within hearing distance. He follows Stiles out of the library. Scott and Lydia share a knowing look, but they don’t say a word. 

Stiles has somehow managed to lead Isaac to his actual first period classroom. They’re both relieved to see that the room is empty and Isaac closes the door behind them. They smile at each other while Stiles places his belongings on his desk. He joins Isaac at the front of the classroom next to the large whiteboard. 

“Thank you for my gift. It was very thoughtful of you.”

Isaac plays it cool. “Not really. I mean, it’s not like I won’t benefit.”

Stiles decides to play dumb. “What do you get out of it?”

The werewolf’s hands come to rest against the board on either side of Stiles. He could easily escape around the arms holding him in place. The thing is that he doesn’t want to. Isaac’s eyes begin to glow yellow and he lowers his head to the nape of Stiles’ neck and scents him. “Don’t play coy. If we’re doing this then we’re going to do it right.”

Stiles sighs halfheartedly. “I suppose I do owe you for how much I beat up on you yesterday. Would a kiss make you feel better?”

“Maybe.”

Stiles leans in to tease Isaac. He redirects his mouth just when Isaac thinks that their lips are about to touch. Stiles’ hand pulls the collar of the beta’s shirt and it just barely gives him access to his right shoulder. Stiles leans down and places a gentile kiss there. He repeats the process on the other shoulder and then looks back into Isaac’s blue eyes. “Well? Did they help?”

“Stop playing games.”

Stiles takes a step back. “Oh, are we playing a game? How do we know which one of us wins?”

Isaac reaches out and grabs Stiles’ waist. He pulls the human close and kisses him with so much want and desire that Stiles is certain they’ll both need a cold shower afterwords. They end the kiss and Stiles presses their foreheads together. 

Isaac is panting and Stiles knows that his plan worked. He got to the werwolf, not that the guy will ever admit it.

“Okay, I don’t want to give you a big head, but that’s the best kiss I’ve ever had,” Isaac admits. 

Stiles pulls away from him. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I swear. You’re an amazing kisser.”

“Well, I had a good partner to practice with. Scott was all teeth at first, but we both surprised each other by the third or fourth attempt.”

Isaac immediately groans. “Please tell me that you’re lying to me right now.”

Stiles is only stating the truth. “It’s not a big deal. We were in the fourth grade. This was pre-Lydia, pre-Allison, pre-everything. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Okay. I believe you.”

“Good. So, when can we do this again?”

Isaac leans in for a second kiss that lasts much longer than the first. They only break apart when someone is clearing their throat. Stiles is embarrassed to see that it’s his teacher, a woman in her late thirties, and she’s looking at them like this doesn’t know whether to be turned on or disgusted that she’s turned on. “There’s a time and a place, gentlemen,” she says, but her tone conveys more humor than admonishment.

Isaac and Stiles walk toward the door and she moves toward her desk. Isaac steals a quick kiss to Stiles’ cheek before heading out of the room. He pauses and turns back to Stiles with a strange glint in his eye. 

“You should probably check your locker after first period. The chapstick was on special and I had the most difficult time guessing what you’d like. I may have bought one of each.”

Stiles definitely likes the sound of that. He can’t ignore his curiosity because there’s only one thing that his brain wants to know and it’s like he’s contractually obligated to get the answer before he can do anything else. “Isaac, how many did you buy?”

Isaac licks his lips before answering. “I lost count once I got to thirty-five. See you soon, Stiles.”

Stiles can hear his teacher laughing at him as he stands with his mouth hanging open. It takes him a full fifteen seconds for his brain to start processing again and he walks to his desk and takes a seat. He looks up and sees his teacher is staring at him. She’s got a warm smile plastered on her face and she tilts her head to the side as if to warn him that she’s debating whether or not she should say something.

He can see the moment she makes a decision. “He’s cute. You better hang onto him, Stiles.”

“Thanks, Miss Simon. I plan to.”

She winks before she returns her attention to preparing for class. Stiles pulls his phone out of his pocket and composes a quick message to Scott. He hits the send button before he regrets it and returns the device to the same pocket he pulled it out of.  


  


* * *

  


  
Scott McCall is talking with Kira about their date after school when his phone starts vibrating. He opens the app and sees that it’s from Stiles. The message is concise and he can’t help but feel a swell of pride because his best friend is finally starting to recover from the damage that the nogitsune did to him. _If I ever need mouth to mouth, make sure Isaac’s lips are the only ones that touch mine._

He shows it to Lydia and she responds by showing him the message that she’s just received from Isaac. _Thx for the chapstick idea. My life is yours._

The pair of them laugh and high-five each other. That’s enough to draw the attention of Kira and Malia. “What’s going on?” Kira asks.

Lydia is already responding before Scott can think of a proper answer to his girlfriend’s question. “Just a bit of good news. Stiles has a lot of extra credit opportunities in his future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm debating on whether or not I want to write a follow-up fic to this. If I do, it's probably going to deal more with Stiles and Isaac's feelings for each other as they get over the honeymoon phase and have to confront their feelings and whether or not this thing between them is going to last. Let me know if you want me to keep going and I'll add it to my list.
> 
> Either way, thank you for taking the time to read this story.


End file.
